I’m sick of working for a living

9 07 2009

You okay? My Occasionally Hope-Giving Friend asked me yesterday when she caught me staring at the wall when I should have been working.  Just counting the minutes until it’s home time – I’m devising my ultimate escape plan I explained. I’ve narrowed down my options to two suitable solutions: either I win the lottery or I rob a bank.

Weighing up the choices she quickly came to the conclusion that it would have to be the lottery as I am a complete wimp when it comes to anything remotely devious. Her case in point was last week’s trip to a festival here in The Hague. The deal had been that all our friends were to smuggle in a bottle of wine each as the price of booze inside was ridiculously steep.

I spent an hour before leaving the house devising the best strategy – I agonised over which bag would be the least conspicuous, phoned friends for advice on what type of bottle would most likely make it through the security inspection, pondered which entrance would offer me the best chance, what type of facial expression to display as I made my way in…

After I had finally constructed a foolproof plan I grabbed my keys to finally leave. With the door open and one foot out sweat beads began to fall from my brow and my heart began racing. My mind flashed forward to possible scenes at the festival entrance – all scenarios ended with my utter humiliation – most featured me in handcuffs with police sirens, flashing lights and reporters everywhere.

Where’s the wine? my friends asked me when I eventually arrived Aw crap! The wine! I knew there was something I had forgotten I said with added disappointment in my voice I must have left it on the table. As I looked about at their faces it was painfully obvious that not one single person believed my story.

My only hope is that some day my annoying goody-two-clogs behaviour will somehow be rewarded in a lottery win! In the meantime I am ridiculously grateful to have such forgiving and understanding friends.


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32 responses

9 07 2009
Baino

My daughter would call you ‘straighty one eighty’ . .hehe . .don’t worry , come over here and we’ll take the flak!

9 07 2009
Primal Sneeze

You could have brought the wine in easily and without fear by drinking it first.

9 07 2009
conortje

baino – well I don’t often get called straighty hehe

primal – funnily enough I did tell them I’d smuggled it in my belly :-)

9 07 2009
Nick

I think I would have been the same. I’m always colossally nervous of any subterfuge like that, I either bottle out or I look conspicuously anxious and shifty. I just feel incredibly guilty about not being what I seem to be. It must be a well-known psychological syndrome….

And did they punish you by refusing to give you any wine?

9 07 2009
conortje

nick – I won back their hearts by offering to just buy some of the expensive plonk instead :-)

9 07 2009
savannah

i’m with you on the lottery! i need to win, too…it would be nice to have the MITM home all the time! xoxox

(i’m with you re trying to sneak in contraband!)

9 07 2009
wisewebwoman

OK:
I’ll help you out.

Buy little bottles of the travelling kind – about 12.

Decant substance into them.

Carefully place throughout body. (Now, now, stop that!)

You’re welcome!

XO
WWW

9 07 2009
conortje

www – genius, absolute genius!!

9 07 2009
Nick

Just noticed what I said – bottled out, he he!

10 07 2009
brokenbranches

In hindsight, it probably didn’t help that I kept calling you with more instructions on how to pass security succesfully and which “security guard” (festival volunteer) to avoid haha!!!
Mind you, I don’t think anyone was complaining about a lack of wine at the end of the night…

10 07 2009
conortje

nick – hehe thought you did it on purpose

brokenbranches – too true – it flowed freey all evening :-) :-)

10 07 2009
Poser

I thought I was a good kid til I read that!

11 07 2009
red

:-)

11 07 2009
Rua MacTírean

pfff amature, buy bags of wine and say it’s your wine belly, then strap a naggin to the inside of each thigh, with another naggin in each sock as well as four cans in the various pockets of your massive winter coat-it’s called a festival suit dummy!

11 07 2009
Esther

Don’t worry my dear! I feel the same anxiety smuggling the booze in! I’m such a coward I leave the poring of it to others. The lack of wine was soon forgotten by the legendary fusion gum you did bring and the priceless report that followed :)! So you see: you are not alone!

12 07 2009
conortje

poser – don’t worry I have my…naughtier moments too :-)

red – well said hehe

12 07 2009
conortje

rua – next time, I promise!!!

esther – hehe too true – it was all too funny – those videos are hilarious (and embarassing!!)

12 07 2009
Wontletlifedefineme / Marjolein

At least you have a clear conscience. :)

13 07 2009
Townygirl

lol. i did same at the take that concert in croke park. i had no camera, no drink, no anything. all around me people were having cheeky pints and taking photos…i was just to fraidy cat. and possibly the only sober person at the concert!

13 07 2009
quickroute

My ‘coffers’ are running out so if you need a aliby or getaway man – I’ll be game

13 07 2009
laurie

i have never sneaked booze into a festival, but i have sneaked it out again. one st. patrick’s day, right before last call we all started ordering as much booze as we possibly could. the bar had run out of any actual good stuff and so started bringing us can after can of potato ale. truly potato ale. against the rules—maybe because we had ordered so many, and they knew we weren’t able to drink it all—-they didn’t open the cans but just stacked them on the table, unopened.

’twas a quite drunken i who got the brilliant idea of loading my pockets with cans of ale. i was wearing one of those big barn jackets, with interior and exterior pockets, and i just filled my pockets til the jacket was so heavy it was dragging down toward the ground. when i left the bar–with GREAT DIGNITY, i must say—i sloshed.

13 07 2009
Colm

I’m sick of not being able to get a job. What does a linguistics graduate do in climes like these….and don’t say teaching, I ain’t got no qualifications…

14 07 2009
MyopicPsychotic

I am totally the same. I used to be a devious little fucker – like I lied for the sake of it – but now I am really honest. If anyone asks me anything now, my face gives away the truth much before my mouth does. The only thing this has done is instill the fear of God in me that I will never get away with a lie again. … I’m like you. I visualise myself getting caught. They would know I had a bottle of wine up my jumpah even before I left the house … In my mind you are just sensible. It’s better to spend a few extra pound on wine than be paro about what might happen.

19 07 2009
Sarah Gostrangely

Goody Two Clogs – Excellent Coinage, sir!

20 07 2009
Hangar Queen

*Rolls eyes*
Pffffffft

Behold

http://tinyurl.com/r5ggyn

22 07 2009
Nick

Where’s young Conor gone? Has he finally won the lottery and turned his back on blogland?

27 07 2009
townygirl

yeah, i miss you. come back.xxx

3 08 2009
Amanda Blog and Kiss

The Blogosphere misses you! I came to tell you that and found these 2 messages above saying the same!!!

3 08 2009
Nick

I think Conor’s been kidnapped by aliens. He’s probably locked in a musty dungeon somewhere unable to make contact with the outside world. And he’s absolutely desperate for some Chocolate Kimberleys.

4 08 2009
travelling, but not in love

I’d have had you down as more adventurous than that – especially after you stole the glass from that bar in Cork.

5 08 2009
conortje

I haven’t been arrested or kidnapped and I promise I will return just as soon as my lungs remember they are lungs and not a torture intrument… now if only I had some choc kimberleys to speed the recovery :-)

8 08 2009
laurie

if i knew what choc kimberleys were i would send you some, just to hasten your return to us

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